


we were up against the wall on the west mezzanine

by defcontwo



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), X-Factor (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:25:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defcontwo/pseuds/defcontwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I like you better than the other one already, Hawkeye."</p>
            </blockquote>





	we were up against the wall on the west mezzanine

**Author's Note:**

> so, basically, my friend Tanja said to me WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF MONET AND KATE MET. WOULD IT JUST BE PURE AWESOME?? and then I set about writing it and somehow there was sex. whoops? sorry not sorry.

It's not that she feels ill at ease at parties like this. Kate grew up amongst fancy dinner parties and high fashion silk and the sound of her father's booming business talk laugh. If she had a dime for every event she's been dragged to in upscale hotels just like this one, she could buy a lifetime's supply of bowstring and then some. 

She knows how to circulate, how to say all the right things to all the right people, and she's always taken a certain joy out of the way her purple skirts twirl out on the dance floor. 

It's just that there are better things that she could be doing right now. Her hands itch for her bow and her mind is already out on the rooftops, beneath the clear, dark night sky. Successfully concentrating on a jumped up Ivy League freshman-to-be's attempts at flirtation is not in the cards tonight. 

There's a flash out of the corner of her eye that catches her attention and Kate turns to see - well. 

This night just got a whole lot more interesting. 

Monet St. Croix, the infamous socialite and occasional model who slipped in and out of Page Six more often than not. Monet St. Croix, the powerful mutant who last Kate had heard, had been jaunting around with X-Factor Investigations in what used to be Mutant Town. 

Monet St. Croix, who managed to ignore the gaping stares that were part fear and part awe with an air of ease and self-confidence that was, if Kate was being honest, more than a little bit of a turn on. 

She downs the remaining few sips of champagne in her glass and sets it swiftly down on the windowsill she had been leaning against. "Well, it was nice talking to you, uh, Tristan?" 

"Yeah," the guy says, flummoxed at her about-turn. "Yeah, could I maybe get your number - " 

"Sure, why not," Kate says, already moving her way across the room. 

She's not entirely sure what she's going to say when she gets there, she only knows that she's moving with the sort of purpose that drove her the night she met Noh-Varr and when all is said and done, it's not like that didn't work out all right in the end. 

When she reaches Monet, the other woman is speaking softly to an older man that Kate recognizes as the French consular in New York. Monet's father was an ambassador, she remembers, and she suddenly feels leery about interrupting a conversation between what are clearly two old friends. 

"Now if you'll excuse me, I believe there's someone I must greet," Kate overhears in pointed English, and she startles to see Monet staring right at her, a mischievous smile playing around the corner of her lips. 

"Kate Bishop," Kate says, holding out a hand before she can lose her nerve. 

"Monet St. Croix," Monet says, accepting Kate's hand and pulling her in for a kiss on each cheek that leaves Kate trying not to blush. 

Monet smiles that mischievous smile again, like there's an inside joke that only the two of them are in on, which Kate supposes isn't entirely untrue. She knows that Monet must have felt the well-worn calluses on her hands, just as Kate's senses immediately pinged onto that special something that she always feels in the company of a particularly powerful mutant. 

"We should dance," Monet says, looking out on the dance floor where dozens of couples are already gathered. 

"All right," Kate agrees easily. 

Monet takes hold of Kate's hand once again and leads her to the center of the floor, pulling her in close, delicate hands resting lightly on Kate's hips. Her dress is light and the room is cool but she feels warm all over. 

"This was a not altogether unpleasant surprise, Little Hawk," Monet says, keeping her voice low as they sway to the music. 

"It's Hawkeye," Kate says, chin jutting stubbornly upwards, a reflex that she may never grow out of. 

Monet nods, a satisfied look stealing across her face. "Good. I like you better than the other one already, Hawkeye."

Kate laughs. "Yeah, I get that a lot, _M_." 

She thinks of how flight is one of Monet's powers and wonders what she'd have to do to recreate this moment high above the city, breathless and exhilarating over the Manhattan skyline. 

"Tell me, Hawkeye," Monet says, lips close to the shell of Kate's ear, making her shiver in all the right ways. "How do you feel about fighting crime in Versace?" 

\+ 

(Kate had dreamt of rooftops from above and flying but they don't quite make it out of the building so much as they end up in a dark corridor outside of the ballroom, purple silk bunched up around Kate's waist, two of Monet's slim fingers scissored inside of her, as Kate's breath comes in stuttered gasps against the curve of Monet's neck and she'd be embarrassed at how wet she is right now but this is, she thinks, just as good as flying). 

\+ 

Kate awakens, sore and sated, in one of the hotel's top suites. Her dress from the night before is hanging on top of the bright wooden closet door, and there's a tray of croissants and coffee on the bedside table. 

There's a note on heavy paper beneath the carafe of coffee and Kate tugs it out, admiring the purposeful neatness of Monet's handwriting. 

_X-Factor Investigations called. It'd serve them right to leave them to their own devices but they'd probably perish without me._

_We'll save the Versace-clad crime-fighting for another night, Hawkeye._

_\- M._


End file.
